Premise: Where some stars die so beautifully, they take you with them.
a supernova
not a cry for help,
but a burst so bright
it teaches the dark how to glow.
some stars burn so fiercely
their light becomes a promise,
an invitation too strong to resist.
wanderers drift closer,
trusting the warmth.
then the pull begins, softly,
a hush across space.
reasoning being stretched into threads of light,
drawn thin, unwound, unmade.
closer, then closer still
until time forgets how to run.
somewhere beyond that edge,
the event horizon,
where even light must let go,
the heart unravels,
quietly.
willingly.
because falling,
felt more like love
than drifting ever did.
then the black hole takes what’s left,
like a love that consumes,
piece by piece,
not violently,
but in small unspoken vanishings:
a memory.
a warmth.
a name no longer held.
until all that remains
is the quiet.
only fragments circle back,
to the ghosts of a gravity once trusted,
tracing a center that cannot be touched.
a singularity of what was,
where even love is stretched so thin
it forgets the shape it had.
and somewhere,
still visible on the far edge of silence,
the tiny blue dot blinks.
already drifting out of reach,
a witness to this quiet unravelling of the cosmos.
“What collapses in the dark teaches the light how to begin again.”
